


Temporary Fix

by TragicLove



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sibling Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 10:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15604299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLove/pseuds/TragicLove
Summary: Taylor justreallyneeded to get off.





	Temporary Fix

Taylor was drunk. 

He was drunk and he was horny, and he was tired of spending all of his nights on the top bunk of that stupid tiny tour bus, jerking himself off, the pillowcase shoved in his mouth so he wouldn’t make a sound. Sure, the curtain was pulled shut, but Isaac was right across the tiny hallway, barely big enough to fit an adult through it, the bottom bunk his place of choice to sleep. 

He’d always been faithful to Natalie. Sixteen long years of sleeping with the same person, time after time. It got boring. Sure, Natalie did a good job of trying to keep their sex life exciting, bringing outfits and toys into the bedroom. But, Taylor was barely out of his prime and he’d spent all of it with one woman, because of a stupid mistake they’d made. A stupid mistake that had turned into a blessing, Taylor’s kids one of the only things he had to be proud of, but a mistake nonetheless. 

The show that night had been the same as the one the night before, and the one the night before that, the monotony that hit at the tail end of a tour always the worst part. So Taylor had taken up a seat at the bar once all of the fans had filtered out of the venue and downed four beers and four shots of Fireball. He didn’t even like the stuff, but he wanted to feel a little numb tonight. Maybe if he were a little numb he could finally work himself up to do it. Pick a random girl and fuck her in a bathroom stall, a back alley, hell, at this point maybe on the sidewalk. 

But, as he stood outside, tucked away just enough that the small crowd of fans who were gathered around the bus couldn’t see him, he couldn’t find a single girl worth breaking his marriage vows for. How was it, all these women ready and willing to give it up to him, and he couldn’t find a single damn one he was ready to give it up for? The luck. 

After scanning the crowd for a third time, still coming up empty, he let out a sigh and put one foot in front of the other, making his way to the bus. Once one girl spotted him, it was like a chain reaction, all of them calling his name, asking for a picture, asking him to sign something. He just smiled at them and waved, throwing a, “not tonight, sorry!” their way, before pulling the bus door open and climbing on board. 

He was surprised to find that he was the first one on the bus. He’d spent a good amount of time drinking himself ready for a task that fell short, but he was completely alone. 

He was still drunk. 

And still horny. 

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, opening his texts and placing his finger on Natalie’s name. He guessed jerking off, once again, would have to do. He typed the same message he found himself sending at least once a week while they were on the road, knowing she’d come through for him. 

_Send me a picture._

Less than a minute passed before the screen lit up, her reply coming through. 

_Again? That’s two this week. You’ll have to pay me back extra when you get home._

He grinned to himself. Sure, it got boring, but she still knew how to please him. 

_Please baby. I’ll do that thing you like first thing when I get back. I need it._

A minute went by with no reply and he’d almost given up, assuming she fell asleep. Just as he was sliding the phone back into his pocket it vibrated and he smiled, swiping the text message open. 

She was leaned over the dresser, phone held at an angle above her head, completely naked. Her arm was under her tits, still perfectly perky and round after five children. He could see down the slope of her back, the curve of her ass. 

A second picture came in, her on the bed, leaned against the backboard, phone held high, angled down so he could see her whole body. Her legs were bent at the knees, spread wide open, a hand on her pussy. Her face was innocent, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Underneath the picture were words: _thinking about when you come home to me._

His cock was straining in his jeans now, begging to be set free. He made to climb up to his bunk and then remembered he was the only one here. He looked at the closed door to the bigger back bedroom, a place that Zac had always commandeered for himself, Taylor and Isaac willing to let him have it if it meant they weren’t kept up all night listening to him play video games. He made the split second decision and pulled the door open, stepping in and shutting it behind him. 

He kicked his shoes off, peeling his tight jeans down his legs and kicking them to the floor. He climbed onto the bed, opening the photo of Natalie touching herself back up. 

His fingers wrapped around his cock, his hand moving up and down at a steady pace. He knew he didn’t have long, and he wanted this to be good. He looked at the picture, imagining her voice in his ear, eager, begging, telling him to fuck her, telling him how good he felt inside of her. 

He dropped the phone to the bed and shut his eyes, working himself quickly, only allowing small pants to leave his lips. 

“Oh,”

His hand froze on his cock, his eyes flying open, head lifting off the pillow. He locked eyes with the person standing in the doorway. 

Zac. 

They didn’t say anything. Zac frozen to his spot, hand still on the door knob, mouth slightly open. Taylor on his back, hand frozen, wrapped around himself. 

Finally Zac took another step into the room, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t move any further, just stood there, eyes trained on Taylor. 

“Wanna touch it?” Taylor finally spoke, voice husky, heavy with the alcohol he had drank. 

“What?” Zac shook his head, shaking himself out of his frozen state. 

“Well, you’re staring at it so I just figured I’d ask.”

“This-“ Zac looked around, as if he were making sure he was in the right place. “This is my room.”

“I was just borrowing it,” Taylor shrugged, hand still firmly wrapped around his dick. 

Zac fell silent again. The familiar feeling of blue balls was creeping up on Taylor and he felt himself growing slightly annoyed. It had been feeling so good, he had been so close. 

“If you’re just gonna stand there,” he finally said, his head still swirling a little from the booze. “Could you turn around so I can finish?” 

Zac just stood there, still staring at him. Taylor counted down in his head, 3...2...1, and then shrugged. 

“Suit yourself,” he said, his hand starting to move again, up and down, slowly, his eyes on Zac’s. 

He dropped his head back to the pillow, his hand moving a little faster, breath coming out a little louder. He could feel Zac watching him and he hated to admit it, but it was turning him on even more, making him let out small moans with each stroke of his hand. He had been picturing Natalie, legs spread wide open for him, but suddenly, against his own will, he was picturing Zac. Plump red lips slightly parted, flushed cheeks. He was ashamed to admit to himself, it wasn’t the first time. 

He felt the part of the bed next to him dip a little and he knew that Zac was sitting there, watching him. He moved his hand a little faster, turning his head to the side, his eyes once again meeting his brothers, a low groan leaving his mouth. 

Zac licked his lips and Taylor saw him swallow hard. His eyes flitted down to his lap and Taylor could see that Zac was hard, the bulge in his jeans impressive. 

“You can touch it if you want to,” Taylor said, his eyes coming back up to meet Zac’s. 

“Wha- why- uh-“ Zac swallowed again. “Why would I want to?”

“You’re looking at it like you want to.” 

“I’m-“ Zac shook his head, his voice deepening a little. “I’m just-“

“You’re hard,” Taylor interrupted, eyes moving back to Zac’s jeans and then back up to his eyes. 

The mixture of the alcohol, the way Zac was looking at him and the way he was stroking himself making him brave, Taylor let go of himself, reaching out and taking Zac’s hand, pulling it toward him. 

“It’s okay,” he said, placing Zac’s hand on his cock, wrapping his fingers around it. “I don’t mind if you touch it.”

Taylor moved his hand on top of Zac’s, setting a nice pace. A long, loud moan filled the air as he sped them up a little bit, heat starting to simmer low in his stomach. 

“There are-“ Zac spoke, gravel in his voice. “There’s still fans- out there.” He nodded towards the window. 

“Let them hear,” Taylor moaned again, his voice dropping. “They already think we’re fucking anyway.”

It was a running thing in their fan base, an obsession almost among a fringe group of them. They wanted nothing more than for Taylor and Zac to be holed up on a tour bus or locked in a hotel room fucking until the cows came home. Taylor had never really understood it. Not until right then, that was. 

Taylor sped their pace up a little bit, and then a little bit more. 

“I’m gonna let go now,” he said. “Keep going.”

Zac nodded, licking his lips again, and Taylor released his hold on his hand, dropping his now free hand on Zac’s thigh. He never knew he wanted to know what his little brother felt like, but suddenly he did. He moved his body a little closer to Zac’s, his fingers moving up to the button on his pants. Zac’s eyes followed Taylor’s hand, watching him unbutton his jeans, slide his zipper down. 

“What are you doing?” Zac whispered as Taylor’s hand slipped inside the hole in the front of Zac’s boxers. 

“Returning the favor,” He wrapped his fingers around Zac’s cock, raising his eyebrows at his width. “You’re bigger than me.”

He pulled Zac free of his boxers and then let go of him, running a finger tip lightly down his shaft. He watched as a chill passed through Zac and then wrapped his hand back around him. He slid his hand up, his thumb running over the head of Zac’s dick before sliding his hand back down. 

Zac’s eyes fluttered shut, his hand on Taylor gaining speed as he released a small moan. 

They stroked each other, the sound of their breathing getting louder. Taylor could feel that it was over for him and he stopped stroking Zac who let out a tiny whimper at the loss of motion. 

“Shit,” Taylor groaned as he came, spilling his load all over his brothers hand. Zac didn’t stop pumping him until he was completely finished, only then drawing his hand away and wiping it on the comforter. 

Taylor reached back out to take Zac back in his hand and then thought of something better. He pushed himself up, turning so that his legs were tucked under him, sitting up on his knees. He took Zac in his hand and stroked him a few more times before slowly bending his head down. 

“What’re you doing?” Zac’s voice came out breathless and Taylor rose his eyes to meet his. 

“I’m going to suck you off.”

“What?” Zac shook his head. 

“Tell me you’ve had a blow job before,” Taylor raised an eyebrow, still stroking Zac slowly. Zac let out a short moan and then shook his head no, a small blush forming on his cheeks. “Oh man, you’ve got to get yourself a new wife.”

Taylor bent down and took Zac into his mouth, taking him all the way in, feeling him hit the back of his throat. 

“Oh, shit,” Zac breathed, his head falling back, hands landing on the bed just slightly behind him to keep him up. 

Taylor slowly ran his tongue up the underside of Zac’s shaft, swirling it around the tip. Zac’s breathing turned to moaning, his hips bucking up slightly, pushing himself further into Taylor’s mouth. 

“Oh my god,” his voice was a low whimper. “Oh my god.”

One hand landed in Taylor’s hair, his hips still bucking upwards. “Oh my god,” he said again, one, two, three times, and then he was coming, hot salty liquid shooting down Taylor’s throat. 

When he knew Zac was completely finished, Taylor pulled away, laying back on the bed again. Zac moved his arms, his back falling down on the bed, his head near Taylor’s legs. They didn’t say anything for a long time, the sounds of their breathing returning to normal filling the small space around them. Finally, Zac’s voice broke the silence.

“You’ve done that before.”

“Not to you,” Taylor replied.

“No,” Zac said and Taylor felt him shift on the bed a little bit. “But, you’ve done it before. There’s no way you haven’t.”

“Maybe,” Taylor answered. Zac was right. Before Natalie there were a string of one night stands, some girls, mostly guys. Taylor would lock eyes with one of the few guys in the crowd, making sure he knew why, making sure he knew what Taylor wanted. Normally, they were guys who had come to the show with their girlfriends, but that didn’t seem to matter. Taylor would find them once the stage lights came back on, drag them into backstage bathrooms or alcoves tucked away from the rest of the people. They’d spend twenty minutes in a tangle of limbs and then Taylor would leave, rolling out of whatever city he was in on their tour bus, never to see the guy again. Sometimes he wondered if they ever thought of him when their girlfriends lips were wrapped around them at night. 

Taylor slowly felt the fuzziness in his head dissipating, clarity washing over him. He’d finally done it, he’d been unfaithful to his wife, and he’d done it with his own brother.

He sat up, looking at Zac quickly before pushing himself off the bed, collecting his pants and shoes. Zac sat up, watching him as he walked to the door.

They locked eyes, and Taylor tried to read Zac’s face for a hint of regret, revulsion, anything to tell him that he’d fucked up, but he found none. 

“Are you drunk?” Taylor asked quietly.

Zac looked at him for a second and then shook his head. 

Taylor felt a rush run through him, but he just nodded, opening the door and stepping out of the room, closing it behind him.

As he climbed into his bunk and the realization sunk in that Zac had obviously wanted that, had wanted him, a feeling came over him that he couldn’t quite explain. It felt a little bit devious, a touch of wrong, and a lot like wanting to do it again. He closed his eyes, willing his brain to shut off, images of the next time flooding his vision. Now that it had happened, he was sure there’d be a next time.


End file.
